


Forges and Flux

by RelicIron



Series: Mercenary [5]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Caden's mostly just thinking his thoughts here, Hobbies, M/M, Metalworking, Pre-Relationship, Weapon Maintenance, and looking over at Arcann and considering if he's friend-shaped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:06:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27569506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RelicIron/pseuds/RelicIron
Summary: Still stressed and adjusting to his new Force-sensitivity, Caden turns to his armstech hobby to take his mind off things so he can sort his thoughts out, but he’s not the only one working in the crafting area.
Relationships: Arcann/Male Bounty Hunter (Star Wars)
Series: Mercenary [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1833691
Kudos: 18





	Forges and Flux

**Author's Note:**

> I watch too much Forged in Fire, and I went way, WAY too far out of my way to build Caden his pair of Trimantium blasters.  
> Mostly this is just getting Caden’s thoughts and showing the boys that they have similar interests.

It had been about two weeks before his weird new Force-sensitivity had calmed down. A very, very long two weeks.

He still felt… off.

All the Force-users still felt kinda… well maybe not uncomfortable, but noticeable to the point of being distracting. Like someone jabbing their finger into his side just shy of being painful and shifting it as they moved around him.

The jedi he’d been talking to said it would get better, and it had, but it was still frustrating and kept him feeling on edge.

Which is why he’s here, plodding towards the lab and spinning one of his pistols in his hands because he hasn’t been able to keep them still all day. It was an old stand-by: when he needed his head to shut up, he worked on his guns. Or any guns really.

The shots on his right blaster had started to veer left a bit, but it would probably be a simple fix. After that, he’d start in on the ever changing pile of weaponry waiting to be serviced, he knew the other armstechs wouldn’t mind.

He hadn’t even noticed the increasing pull until he was in the crafting area and that pull became a _yank_.

Arcann.

He had his back turned, working a red hot piece of metal at the power hammer and wearing a full set of heavy leathers that were scorched and pitted from years of use. Likely the back-up pair for the usual armorer, as the armstechs generally used a different, lighter style.

A half second after Caden registered his presence, Arcann’s back straightened and that near-painful yank muted down into something more manageable.

All three of them, Lana, Senya, and Arcann, had been pretty good about that. Purposely dampening their presence in the Force as best they could when he was around. It was a relief to him, especially since their undiluted power was almost unbearable.

He didn’t turn around, didn’t visibly respond other than the brief pause in his work, and Caden was happy enough to leave it at that.

Arcann’s presence quickly faded into the background as Caden got down to business. Breaking down his blaster and cleaning it thoroughly before examining the parts.

Ah.

There.

One of the posts anchoring the main focus lens had cracked, dropping the laser optic just enough to make his shots swing wide. Like he’d hoped, easy to fix.

The familiar motions were soothing, letting the world fade out as he picked out the proper flux and solder to mend the damage. Honestly it was a miracle that they hadn’t broken down on him during the whole thing with Arcann and Vaylin, he certainly hadn’t had many opportunities to give them a full inspection and tune-up. Probably netted him some bragging rights that his work had weathered the storm with frequent cleanings alone.

He had to admit though, he was curious about Arcann over there by the forge.

The soldering bench was up against the wall, so he only had to look to the side to watch him work.

Caden had been there enough times to recognize when a man was just moving metal around without a clear direction. There was only so much the steel would take of course, and after a while he’d give up on the current piece and toss it on the pile to be reused in the foundry. Still, from what Caden could see, he DID know what he was doing. His movements were sure and steady as he heated the metal, only pulling it out to shape when it was the appropriate color, and he was clearly comfortable with the rapid-fire beat of the power hammer.

He wondered where he’d learned, or hell, _why_ he’d learned.

Ugly childhood aside, it’s not like the guy would have had a hard time getting equipment. He doubted Valkorian would have had his children using anything less than the best and surely they had royal armorers or something.

Being curious about Arcann was full of nasty pitfalls. It’s why he’d mostly held back from asking him questions outside of the necessary stuff for work. There were too many different ways he could dredge up painful memories, for either of them, by asking something careless.

His growing handle on his force power meant he was also getting a better sense of their bond, which meant that Arcann wasn’t hiding quite as much as he thought he was.

He could never get anything major of course, just faint impressions, and right now Arcann felt calm. Maybe even bordering on meditative if it wasn’t for a faint edge of worry. Even so, it was probably the most content he’d been since he’d joined the Alliance. Caden wasn’t about to screw that up by asking questions just to sate his curiosity.

So they worked alongside each other, quietly, for several hours. And by the end of it, when his eyes had started to burn from the strain and his hands began to cramp, he realized that he felt… better. Not just calmer, that was normal after burying himself in maintenance, but more settled.

He’d done this several times before, but it had always been alone. The other crafters were always either busy somewhere else, or didn’t want to get in his way because he was the illustrious Commander and too great and amazing to bother with their presence.

He must be lonelier than he thought if just having _Arcann_ quietly sharing his space made him feel better.

Torian and Mako were still figuring things out after their long ‘break’, Gault and Hylo were… well, he wasn’t sure what they were doing but it definitely wasn’t his business, and while it was fun to hang around Blizz, there was only so much he could take of the high speed chatter and constantly changing topics before he got too tired to continue.

Theron and Lana were nice to talk to, but constantly busy and the others…

Most of the others either didn’t like him and tolerated his command just to get things done, or seemed to like him fine but **he** couldn’t stand **them**.

Kaliyo pretty much activated his fight or flight instinct on sight, and Jorgan was… too much like him. The way he used to be. When the betrayal was still fresh and he hadn’t yet accepted that the Republic wasn’t what he thought it was.

Of all of them, Senya was the nicest to be around, even if she had such a ‘mom’ aura that it was hard to take sometimes, but he couldn’t just cling to her like a child. Especially since her _actual_ child needed her attention more than Caden did.

He sighed as he put things away.

Their first impressions had been under the worst possible circumstances, and they hadn’t had much time to talk in the last three-ish weeks. But maybe…

His back cracked as he stood and stretched, sneaking a quick glance over to where Arcann had apparently given up working directly with the metal and had sat down at the drafting table with several pieces of flimsi, still covered almost head to toe in metalworking leathers.

Apparently whatever idea he’d come up with was worth boiling himself alive to plan it out.

He knew the feeling.

Station cleared, he gathered his blasters and started to head out, but paused after a moment and turned back.

“’Night, Arcann.”

He didn’t jump, but he did still immediately, before lifting his head and looking over his shoulder to meet Caden’s eyes.

“Goodnight, Commander,” he replied, voice rougher than usual after hours with little use.

It’s not like he’s never made a friend out of an enemy, Gault is living proof of that, but befriending a former-genocidal manic seemed to be a different beast from letting a master conman tag along.

Still…

Maybe it was time to try his luck again.


End file.
